The Idiot's Lantern
by Mr Bellatrix Lestrange
Summary: "She looked like he imagined she might have when she was a little girl - her hair flying behind her and her dress flowing around her like they were wading in an ocean of grass. And all the fireflies were little, bitty fishes, and they were catching them because it was fun and that was all the excuse they needed."


**A/N: This is for the Doctor Who Challenge with the title, as is, 'The Idiot's Lantern.' **

"Rose?" Scorpius called, as he walked throughout the deserted house.

It was abnormal to see a house owned by the Weasleys (any of them) in such a calm and tranquil state - as there were always at least a dozen cousins or parents or family members running around to find other family members or parents or cousins. The quiet was a nice change, but Score wasn't exactly sure he liked it. What with constantly being on his toes ever since he and Rose had started dating, he'd come to enjoy the commotion that an extensive family came with. One of the many changes he'd been happy to make upon entering the relationship, and he hadn't looked back since.

"Out here, Scorpius," he heard Rose call from the back, and he followed his memory through the darkened house. He was shocked to find that the back patio wasn't pitch dark like the rest of the world at that time, but instead illuminated by hundreds of little bugs that looked like stars in the air.

"Rose, what is this?" Score asked, slowly making his way to where she was sitting in the middle of the grass.

"Don't you like it?" Rose asked innocently. "They come here all the time in the Summer. I was just waiting until you got here so that we could catch some," she said, holding up a pair of jars, then indicating a stack of them on the picnic table beside her. Score extended a hand to help her off the dewy lawn.

"And why, pray tell, would we want to catch a bunch of... shimmering insects?" he asked sceptically. A few of the bugs were flickering as if broken, and Score wasn't sure he wanted any of them at all. The Ravenclaw in him was wondering just what it was that made them glow, though, because something told him it wasn't magic. He'd learned through Rose that there were other kinds of magic in the world.

Shrugging indifferently, Rose answered, "Because it's fun. Blimey, didn't you ever chase them when you were young?"

Scorpius squared his shoulders before stating a firm, "No. Father didn't allow certain expressions of fun. Besides, they never came around where I could see them. I guess they were hiding from me."

"Don't be down, Score," Rose said, reaching for his hand to squeeze in hers. "Here, we just use the jars to catch them. It's... sweet. And childish. We can be sweet and childish if we want, you know, before we have to go live in the real world. We're still seventeen. It's alright."

Scorpius grasped the jar tightly in his hands. "But I don't know how to _do _this."

"No one does!" was her reply, as she turned away and went about capturing the bugs. She was right though, Score noticed, because she didn't look serious or solemn and she _certainly_ didn't look like she was seventeen and facing the world of careers and flats and the great, big blue. She looked like he imagined she might have when she was a little girl - her hair flying behind her and her dress flowing around her like they were wading in an ocean of grass. And all the fireflies were little, bitty fishes, and they were catching them because it was fun and that was all the excuse they needed.

He opened his jar and used it to make a scooping motion, which didn't help in the least. Neither did vertical, horizontal, or any other form of motion he could think of. It wasn't until Rose informed him that he needed to actually _run_ with it that he actually caught one, and even then it was a close match. But the exhilaration that he felt - the freeness and elation - was almost like he had managed to take off flying and wasn't planning on ever touching down.

"Lookit Rose, I got one!" he laughed, showing her the little creature.

"And now," she said, handing him a lid and a rope, "we make a lantern."

"Why not just let them go?" Score questioned, though he was rather curious as to how the lantern would turn out, and screwed the cap on anyway.

"Because we don't need to," Rose said with ease, putting her hand out for the jar. He gave it to her and she linked the rope fastened to it with another one attached to their patio cover, and it suspended there, just like a lantern would. "Dad used to call these things 'idiot's lanterns.' Sort of a joke on laymen. He didn't really see the beauty in it, just the uselessness."

"I don't think it's useless." Score said, gazing up at Rose, who was still standing on the table. "It illuminates the beauty that I already see. It's a symbol of something to follow, something that lights the sky. You're my idiot's lantern, Rose, because I'm the dummy and you're the one that puts up with me. You just open my eyes, with something as simple as chasing bugs on a Summer night. You see that, don't you? You have to see what you do to me."

"Oh, Score," Rose said, sounding on the brink of tears for a second before she wrapped her arms around his neck and snogged him breathless. Score thought that the breathlessness was just perfect though. Because with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the journey to the great beyond, he realised that every idiot needed his own lantern.


End file.
